


One of Those Nights

by merlywhirls



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:33:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlywhirls/pseuds/merlywhirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius finds Remus having a panic attack in the common room over the impending full moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of Those Nights

It was always during the night that it really started to cloud over in Sirius’ mind.

It would wander to things he’d rather forget, to people he’d rather pretend didn’t exist, let alone be related to. The night should have been a sanctuary for him; it was the only time his family would leave him alone in his childhood. It was a time of peace and silence, no angry words ringing in his ears and no stinging slaps to the face. The night was when he could escape and rejuvenate; a healing before the next wound. It was a calm time for a younger Sirius, but now all the darkness brought him were memories.

Dreams weren’t much better, when he was able to fall sleep, as his subconscious liked to exaggerate voices and behaviors that were already extreme anyway. He once confessed to James that he had taken to sipping Fire Whiskey before falling asleep, and only promised to stop when James stole some sleep inducing herbs from Madam Pomfrey’s personal cupboard. The herbs made the dreams worse, but he would at least sleep through them, slightly sweaty and tense in the mornings.

But considering the traumas Sirius faced in the most noble and ancient house of Black, his sleep problems weren’t all that common. Dreams were consistent but the same, and by the time Sirius had had a morning coffee the clinging desperation from his dreams dripped off easily. He could shake them off in the daylight. The longer he stayed at Hogwarts, the easier it came to sleep.

This night became the exception, however, as that morning Sirius had a brief encounter with his brother Regulus and Regulus’ new, disgusting friends. Of course it was with their pureblood cousins, Narcissa and Bellatrix, and their own pureblood friends.

They called Sirius a blood traitor on his way to breakfast.

Usually the names and insults could not penetrate Sirius’ heart, taking them to be compliments rather than words of hatred.

But never before had it been Regulus to call him that.

Regulus, the young boy Sirius used to protect from their pureblood-mad parents, whom Sirius would sleep with in a cold, large bed in Grimmauld Place while the younger boy wept. Sirius never hated his younger brother for following their parents’ ideals for the wizarding blood class; rather, felt pity, that Regulus could be so stupid.

But after that morning, Sirius started to feel that hatred bubble in his traitorous blood.

Now lying in his bed, those words echoing in his head, those words said in _his_ voice, Sirius found that he could not stop thinking about the past for the first time in months.

They had finished their Fire Whiskey supply on Christmas, which was over a month ago, but none of them had bothered to restock it. Sirius now greatly regretted their laziness.

Tonight, he didn’t much feel like having dreams.

He could probably wake up James, get under the cloak and take the map, go for an adventure in the middle of the night, but when he swung his feet out of the bed and pulled back the curtains, the thought was out of his mind.

Because next to him laid an empty bed, a bed that usually would never be empty under any circumstances, because Remus Lupin was always adamant about having enough sleep.

And tomorrow night was the full moon. Remus should be dead on his feet.

But apparently he wasn’t, that he was awake, and what seemed most important to Sirius, he was also missing.

Sirius’ new mission was to now find Remus Lupin at all costs.

Sirius decided to go sans wand, mostly because he didn’t want to make so much noise rummaging through his chest to find it, and tip toed of the dorm as quietly as he could. Sirius had memorized all the creaks and weak spots by the first month of living there, so slipping out unnoticed was easy.

After taking a few careful steps down the stairs to the common room Sirius heard a peculiar noise, like a wounded animal, followed by sobs and hitched breathing.

Without having to go all the way down, Sirius knew that Remus was crying.

Sirius stood, stuck, on the staircase. He didn’t know if Remus would want him to come down, to find Remus in such a state, but at the same time Sirius couldn’t just turn around and go back to bed knowing that Remus was so upset.

So upset, and _wounded_.

His crying sounded hysterical, painful, and Sirius’ feet decided before the rest of him that his Moony needed comfort over pride.

He wasn’t careful about stepping on creaky floorboards anymore, only wanting to reach Remus as quickly as he could. When he reached the foot of the stairs, Sirius immediately saw his wiry friend curled up into a tight ball, knees to his head and his arms wrapped around tightly, sitting atop the wooden table used for homework by the fireplace. His body was rocking, shaking, and Sirius could see in the flicker of the fire’s flames that Remus’ fingers were bone white from such a tight grip.

Remus didn’t look up as Sirius approached slowly, like approaching a wild animal, completely unsure about what to do. Sirius couldn’t tell if Remus knew he was here.

“M-moony…”

Remus took a loud inhale, like he were gripping onto his dying breath. He tentatively lifted his head from his knees, looking at Sirius through tiny, red-rimmed eyes, breathing heavily and shaking so hard that Sirius thought he would shatter.

Sirius had no idea what to say or do. He had his own small episodes of anxiety after living at that house for so long, but never anything like this. Even Regulus never cried this much.

And besides, this was _Moony_. You don’t _just touch_ Moony.

The only time Sirius had ever had to comfort Remus was when they told him that they knew he was a werewolf. Remus shook with relief in his arms, but it was a nice shake, as if Remus were instead laughing than relieving stress.

This time, however, it was like a ticking bomb.

Sirius stood immobile before him, just reaching but not touching, never touching, words of consolation caught in his throat.

Sirius was way out of his depth, and didn’t want to do anything that would make it worse. He also didn’t want to ask stupid questions like, what’s the matter? Or, are you okay?

Sirius didn’t know what to do.

“Remus,” he whispered, because that’s all he thought to do.

But Remus’ hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve, gripping tightly and shaking. He finally looked Sirius in the face and moaned, “I can’t _breathe_.”

Instantly Sirius pulled Remus off the table by the arms, pressing their bodies close, and closing his arms around Remus’ shoulders. Remus hugged Sirius tightly back, his face buried in Sirius’ neck and his legs slightly giving out under him. Sirius held him up, compressing their chests firmly together, and one hand laced through Remus’ hair soothingly. They swayed a bit, trying to find their footing and comfort against each other’s bodies, but when Remus sighed out his last sob, Sirius was assured that he had done the right thing.

 

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispered in his soft hair, “I’ve got you. You’re safe here.”

After a while their chests rose and fell in time with each other, and Remus finally stopped shaking.

And Sirius isn’t entirely sure when, but Remus had fallen asleep against him, and after Sirius slipped Remus into bed, the only indication that something had happened was the wet patch on his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes when I'm feeling anxious, I think about these two and it makes everything a little better.


End file.
